Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
And for the first time since I was in that closet, I cry because of my father. For what he took from Mom, what he took from me. What he took from our family. I cry for Mom’s pain and my loss of a parent. I cry because I hate him and because a small part of me loves him. I cry because he’s gone, and I don’t know how I should feel about it.
Evan’s there the whole time, holding me, protecting me, loving me.
33
Evan
I stand in front of my floor-length mirror as I finish sliding my new jockstrap up my legs.
With a black waistband and blue across the front pouch, it matches my puppy hood.
Z recommended it to me when we were having frozen yogurt together the other week. Apparently, it’s manufactured by the same company as the hood.
I turn to the side, assessing my profile, noting that my ass looks pretty fucking good in it.
When I’m finished, I hurry to my desk where my collar is resting on the side. I put it on and head back to the mirror.
I flash Frankie’s inscription in the reflection. If lost, please return to Frankie.
I really was lost before I found Frankie.
I was lost that night we first met, when I was devastated about Peter’s betrayal. Not just because I’d discovered he was a cheating bastard, but because I’d realized the extent of how he’d duped me and Gary. While all that was going on, I was still figuring out shit with my depression…and I was really on my own, without very many friends.
After Frankie and I started hanging out, even though it was just as friends, what that did for me and my life, changed everything. Suddenly, I wasn’t on my own anymore, and the world made a lot more sense. My mental health, my relationships with other people, and my relationship with him all flourished together, and I found the confidence and the tools to discover who I really was…discover aspects of myself that feel like they’ve always been there, but I didn’t really know how to express before.
I reach into the pull-out drawer in my closet and retrieve my puppy hood.
I tug at the sides.
Even just looking at it like this makes me feel giddy and excited, especially knowing that tonight Frankie and I will be attending our first puppy mosh.
The next step, really.
The timing feels so right.
Funny to think I was nervous about going to meet pups at an event at the Eagle just a few months ago at PupStravaganza. I was lucky that Frankie was there, not just to help me through a situation that I was in over my head with, but also to guide me through this. Now, we’ve already participated in our first PupStravaganza, and we’ve even been able to talk to our friends about our fun little secret, and of course it wasn’t a big deal at all. Frankie’d blurted it out at dinner one night and there’d been a round of Good for yous and an Are you trying to one-up me? from Derek and the conversation had been over. Not only have the guys been supportive, they’ve been excited for us about this big step we’re taking tonight as we prepare to immerse ourselves in this world in a whole new way. I’m excited about the opportunity to play with other pups and handlers in a safe, nonjudgmental environment…with Frankie.
Frankie’s kind of awesome.
As I appreciate my boyfriend, and that I get to even call him that, I practically prance into the living room, hood in hand, to show off my new jock.
Frankie is stretched out across the couch, shirtless, in a pair of jogging pants, that black beanie—his favorite—on his head, and the two bracelets he always wears, the one from me and the one from his mom.
As soon as he sees me, he moves his laptop off his lap and sets it on the coffee table.
“Get over here,” he says, commanding me the way he might during one of our puppy sessions.
I start toward him and stop for a moment, turning to the side so he can get that same view of my ass that I got in my closet mirror.
He growls.
“Wait a second,” I say. “I’m supposed to be the pup.”
“Stop being a cocktease and get in my lap.”
I obey my handler.
“Do you like my new jockstrap?” I ask, already reading the answer all over his face—in that serious expression, the tightness of his jaw, the way his lips twitch like he’s stilling some impulse to take me right here on the couch.
“I love your new jock. You’re going to be the sexiest pup out there tonight.”
“I don’t know…there’ll be a lot of very cute pups there, I’m sure.”
“You’re just begging for a compliment now.”
“As you know, Frankie, I’m getting much better at begging.”